The Liebster Award: Part 1

Well. This here awesome blog nominated me for something called the Liebster Award for new bloggers. I’m a blogger, I’m new, and I can answer random questions, so there you go. Meant to be! I gotta answer a bunch of questions, pass on the award, and hopefully meet a bunch of interesting people along the way.

First things first though. 11 facts about me…

I dislike peanut butter, bananas, and cereal. Unless I am pregnant. In that case I love all three aforementioned foods. Yes, I realize that those three are considered to be the most innocuous foods in the American diet. Maybe it is because I wasn’t born eating an American diet. Pork belly, anything fermented, and ice cream. Yes, please.

I have prescient/psychic dreams. Well, I used to have them. I think the Taters sucked that power out of me. Back when we were dating, I even dreamed that Latke went to a strip club with his brother without telling me. Yeah, Latke’s brother: I knew about that, don’t think I didn’t!

I lived in a township in South Africa for 6 months when I was in college. I had no freaking clue what I was getting into. None. I was 20 years old, working for room and board in a government funded group home. There were 30 kids, and 2 staff members. After I graduated, I moved back home to California and worked in a high level of care group home. 12 kids, 4 staff. Piece. Of. Cake. (Just kidding, that was insanely hard too.)

I am grossed out by the squeal of tires in parking garages. Especially the garages that have painted cement floors. Whatever it is, I think it is inheritable. My mom hates it, and so does Mouse. The sound makes me feel like I need to scrub my ears out.

I like to talk to Latke while he sleeps in the hopes of getting clandestine information to blackmail him with later. Despite that he is so talkative in his sleep, my attempts have, unfortunately, never worked. Perhaps I would do better if I were a lawyer, as his midnight mumbling seem to always do with the law. He’ll just mutter, “Don’t sweat it, it is only a preliminary”, or wonder out loud what the statute of limitations is on such and such a crime… Blargh. Why isn’t there more muttering about the need to give me more massages? Let’s work on it.

I don’t shave anymore. This is not pleasing to the hubby. Check it out though, I’m lucky if I take two, maybe three showers a week. This is a very carefully timed dance. Mouse must be at preschool. LP gets down for a nap. Then I have a ten minute window in which I can bribe Chipmunk with a snack so she will stay out of trouble while I’m gone. You think I’m going to spend those ten minutes shaving? Heck no. (Ok, I might be lying. I stopped shaving long ago, but I use the kids as an excuse for everything under the sun, so there. I still shave if I have to dress up. Which was… well. Hm…)

I am woefully lacking in a lot of American pop culture references. I blame my immigrant parents for renting Korean soap opera videos when I was a kid instead of having us watch Star Wars and Indiana Jones. All I know is that Darth Vader is Luke’s dad, and I think there is some sort of monkey brain eating in one of the Indiana Jones movies. Same with all of the iconic American sports. I will admit that I really only grasped how American football works when I started watching Saturday Night Lights. Embarrassingly, I don’t even really have an excuse for all this, as I moved here when I was less than 2 years old.

When caught by my kids trying to eat some clandestine chocolate, I might have told them that it is spicy chocolate and therefore they can’t have any. Do I always have to be honest with my kids?

I really like listening to Christmas carols during the holidays. I know. Shamefully cheesy.

When I was little, I wanted to have blue eyes, red, curly hair, and light skin. When I learned this wasn’t possible, I decided that I wanted my kid to look this way. When I learned that was not possible, I cried. Yup. Interesting, eh? Glad I didn’t keep thinking that nonsense for too long; gotta appreciate what you have.

I believe in God. God, the Almighty, the Universe, call it what you will, but I do believe. I’ve never really sought this out, but it seems to keep seeking me out, and over the years, I’ve chosen to believe. I don’t think faith is trusting in something you don’t know, or can’t prove. I think faith in God is more about trusting in something you do know, but accepting that you don’t need tangible proof for every kind of knowledge. For me, I think that might be a fundamental disagreement on the definition of faith. Perhaps a better word for faith in God would be instinct.

So there you have it! I tried to make myself sound as awesomepants as I could. I came to the realization while writing this–I have had a fairly boring life history. Sorry y’all, I tried. xoxoxo

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10 Comments on “The Liebster Award: Part 1”

Hahaha Goofball. Not sure anymore if you really are my long lost Korean relative – you don’t like Peanut Butter?!?!

Oh, and heck no you don’t have to be honest with your kids ALL the time! My brother used to tell his kids that the ice cream truck was just a “music truck”. Same brother thought it was hysterical to watch his girls run to hide the dogs when they thought the UPS truck was the dog catcher. ;)

Thanks, lady. I know, it pains the husband that I never purchase peanut butter. It honestly never occurs to me. I was the only kid in school who would be bummed out when I got PB&J in my lunch. I know, my priorities are all messed up!

Personal hygiene recommendation (humbly offered): DON’T stay up all night on the computer. That way, you will have enough energy to get up before the kids and wash your hot mommy bod. I know, it sounds crazy…

Wow. Those are some personal facts! It kind of seemed like more of a confession. As a husband myself I need to make sure Latke is aware of your nocturnal interrogations. Seems like there has to be some type of law against that.